


There's A Fire

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [103]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: 25DaysofKlaroline, Alternate Universe - Historical, Correspondence, Dirty Talk, F/M, Klaus is still Klaus, LadyScientist!Caroline, Masturbation, Sex Pollen, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8813425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: After her parent's unfortunate deaths Caroline discovers something important that they've been keeping from her -  vampires, witches and werewolves are real. Digging deeper she begins a correspondance with Niklaus, an assistant to a priest who hunts vampires in New Orleans.Only Niklaus isn't quite who he'd claimed to be. He pays a call, his intentions mysterious, until an accident in Caroline's laboratory forces them both to speak plainly.





	

**There's A Fire**

**(Prompt: "heyy, could you do a regency + sex pollen fic? like Caroline comes into contact with the pollen and she asks for Klaus' help, but set in the 1800's?" Title from the OK Go song of the same name. SMUT.)**

It's a beautiful day, cloudless skies stretching above her and a pleasant breeze rustling through the trees that dot the estate.

Caroline's enjoying the fresh air and humming quietly to herself. She's got her face turned up to bask in the warmth of the late morning sun, not caring about the scolding she's sure to receive from her lady's maid if her skin turns more golden or if, horror of horrors, the scattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks becomes more pronounced.

Victoria remained completely aghast at Caroline's lack of concern for her complexion.

The sun simply feels far too nice after the hours she's spent cooped up in her laboratory. All she needs now is a proper meal, perhaps a nap in her actual bed. The settee she's caught scant hours of rest on while her latest idea nagged at her was dreadfully uncomfortable.

Perhaps she'll speak to one of the footmen about dismantling a bed from one of the guest rooms and relocating it. Caroline was short on company as it was, her family distant and friends busy. She doubted the loss of one spare bed would be an issue.

Distracted as she is Caroline starts when she notices another person's nearby. She lets out an embarrassing squeak, stopping short and nearly stumbling when a man unfolds from a crouch at the end of the drive. He'd been obscured by her rose bushes and he sweeps his hat off his head when he spots her. "I beg your pardon, Miss. Startling you was not my intention."

Caroline's taken aback by the accent - few foreigners venture this far into the countryside. She's _never_ come across such a crisp patrician inflection in this part of rural Virginia. She's not heard a similar lilt in over two years, not since the last time she'd ventured into town society when her parents had still been alive.

How different her life had been then.

Caroline shakes the thought away for it's far too gloomy for such a lovely day. She makes an effort to smooth down the front of her dress as she approaches the stranger. It's hopelessly wrinkled, she knows, and not all that attractive to begin with but the gesture is automatic. Her visitor regards her patiently, no hint of annoyance with her lack of manners though his eyes seem to be cataloging her person carefully.

She offers him a smile and casts her eyes over him in an assessing sweep of her own. She grows even more embarrassed by her disheveled state when she realizes he's _very_ handsome, with dark blonde curls and a firm jaw, a hint of a dimple carved into his cheek by the half smile that curves his well-formed lips.

His clothing is obviously expensive, perfectly tailored to his lean frame, and Caroline wonders what on earth he could possibly be doing _here_ in her sleepy corner of Virginia.

She dips a quick curtsy, attempting hide her ungloved and ink stained hand in the gray folds of her skirt. "It's perfectly fine, sir. I should have been more aware of my surroundings."

He inclines his head, "Your lack of attention is understandable. I doubt there's much in the way of danger in these parts."

Two years ago Caroline would have agreed. Now, fully aware that the world contained greater threats than carriage robbers or vandals, she keeps her smile polite but maintains a wary distance. "May I ask what brings you to my home?"

A fleeting flash of surprise lifts his brows though it dissipates quickly. "Are you Miss Caroline Forbes?" he asks curiously.

"I am."

He bows, his eyes never leaving hers. "Then I am delighted to make your acquaintance. And I'll apologize again, I should have introduced myself but you're… not quite what I expected."

Caroline's brows furrow in confusion wondering if she should be offended, "And what did you expect?"

He straightens, head tipping to the side as his eyes drift down her body, appreciation evident. They lift back to her face quickly, saving the action from being overly uncouth. "Truthfully? I'd assumed you'd be plain. Silly, since I've met a great many people who managed to be beautiful _and_ intelligent and a great many homely dullards. It's just, I've found girls your age, with your means often have…shall we say _narrow_ interests."

 _Now_ she was a little offended and it's obvious in the fast, harsh clip of her next words. "Then I suspect you know _very_ few 'girls my age,' sir. Or at least you only know them by the shallowest of acquaintance. It's frowned upon for one of my sex to be too knowledgeable about subjects thought unladylike. Such subjects, if you truly think about it, encompass nearly everything one _could_ be interested save perhaps fashion or horses or a few meagre artistic pursuits."

His lips twitch in amusement and Caroline knows her rant has left her color high, "Touché, love." He continues before she can process the endearment, taking a few steps forward so that the foliage that lines the drive no longer separates them. "I am Niklaus. From New Orleans. We've been corresponding about your research endeavours. I had some business close by so I thought…"

Caroline's eyes widen in recognition, a thrum of excitement building. She'd been hoping for something from him, had made the walk down the long drive herself, too impatient to wait for the post to be delivered with her afternoon tea. She'd done so daily for the last fortnight and had begun to worry about the lack of word. She'd received letters from Niklaus, and the occasional package - usually volumes he'd thought would be helpful to her though the vervain imbued necklace he'd sent lay tucked beneath her dress even now – weekly for close to eight months now.

She supposes she'll have to forgive him for assuming her plain because he's not at all how she'd pictured him either. In her mind Niklaus had been bookish, bespeckled and on the shy side. She'd thought that a man who assisted a priest, even one who hunted vampires in his spare time, would be nondescript, brown hair, brown eyes, and average in all ways.

The Niklaus before her was _none_ of those things.

He nods down at the roses, "These are the flowers you wrote of? I think you were a bit modest. They're lovely."

Caroline tries not to preen but she _is_ proud of her work. Flowers, and her irritation at not being able to find a variety that had matched her vision for her parent's 20th wedding anniversary celebration, had been her first foray into experimentation. She'd been only 13, somewhat spoiled, and completely unaware that the world could not always be bent to her whims. She'd vaguely recalled a discussion about something called cross breeding at a supper table with a botanist friend of her father's and had delved into that section of the library to see if she could perhaps _make_ the flowers in her mind a reality.

Finding their collection of books on the subject insufficient for her aims she'd asked for more. They'd been supplied with some amusement, her parent's accustomed to her single mindedness and likely grateful that she was channeling her boundless energy into something quiet and sedate for once.

The gardener had initially been tolerant of Caroline monopolizing a corner of one of the greenhouses. His patience had lessened when her experiments multiplied and expanded. A structure was built away from the main house, simple but functional and complete with its own small greenhouse, and Caroline was given the run of it.

Twelve years later and it's still her favorite place in the world even if her research interests have shifted dramatically.

She reaches out to brush her fingers over a half-open bloom, "Thank you. I'm afraid I've neglected them recently though they seem to be flourishing."

"And how is your current _project_ going?"

The breath she blows out is frustrated, "Stalled. I need fresher samples. Jeremy and Tyler do their best to send the blood quickly but by the time it gets here…"

Sometimes the blood sample was too dried out to be much use, the victim of a sloppy seal. More often the blood she had to work with was in various states of coagulation. Caroline had a working theory that the extent of it was related to the age of the vampire the blood had been taken from though she hadn't ruled out the possibility that it was a matter of a vampire's feeding intervals.

Niklaus makes a show of glancing around, "I doubt you have too many vampires nearby. I imagine it would be difficult to sustain oneself discretely in such a sparsely populated area."

She sighs, "No, you're correct. Not that I would really _know_. I find myself reluctant to venture out after dark since I first read my father's journals. I see few people and I scrutinize each for visible lapis lazuli and have yet to find a trace."

"That sounds a bit… lonely," Niklaus remarks.

If he pities her he's kind enough to hide it but Caroline still forces a bright smile, "It's not so bad. The mountain of sympathy food and flood of mourners after each of my parent's deaths got a little… cloying in all honesty. I've grown comfortable in my own company. Possibly too comfortable," she finishes with a significant glance down at her attire.

Her father had passed away suddenly eleven months after her mother's long battle with illness had been lost. Caroline hadn't bothered to order new mourning dresses and the simple grey one she wears is worn and outdated.

She's also corset less and without stockings or drawers in deference to the summer heat. She'd not thought she would see a soul other than those in her employ today and Caroline hopes Niklaus has no inkling of how improperly she is attired. "I apologize for not being in a fit state to receive you but I can offer you some refreshment. However did you get here?" she asks.

He steps away from her and whistles softly and Caroline hears a distinct set of footsteps just before a large black horse emerges from a clump of trees on the opposite side of the lane. The animal makes his way over to them, nudging at Klaus' shoulder. He pats the horse's neck affectionately, "Caroline meet Hrimfaxi. He wandered off when I got distracted."

Caroline reaches out to stroke the horse's snout, "That's quite a name."

He smiles, "I grew up with tales of Norse mythology. We mostly call him Hrim. Less pretentious."

"He's beautiful enough that I'd forgive him for being conceited."

"Careful, sweetheart," Niklaus teases, "Before long I'll know all your weaknesses."

It was a little late for that to be a concern because he knew a fair few already. Personal tidbits, opinions and anecdotes, had begun to slip into their letters ages ago. These days each one was pages long, more about _them_ than about vampires and how to fight them. Niklaus sent her sketches, detailed studies of buildings in New Orleans or scraps of remembrances from his travels. He complained about his siblings at length and had proven to be witty and knowledgeable about a great many subjects. Caroline felt like she _knew_ him.

"Then you'll just have to confess some of your own, won't you?" Caroline replies. It comes out flirtier than she'd meant it too and she glances away, sure her cheeks are stained pink. She turns away slightly, ducking her head. "How about we begin with how you take your tea, the sort of sandwiches you prefer?"

There. That was a reasonably smooth recovery. Hopefully Niklaus wouldn't be uncomfortable now. Men often got ridiculous notions, assumed a woman was angling for a marriage proposal instead of simply being friendly, and got defensive.

Caroline had little desire to be tied down. Her parent's relationship had been singular, a marriage built on deep friendship and respect rather than passion. Her father had kept company with his secretary, her mother discretely with their groom. They'd explained to Caroline, once they thought she was old enough, that they loved one another but had never been _in_ love. They'd found that in other people, her father had told her gently, and agreed that they wanted each other to be happy but didn't want to risk censure by allowing others to know their circumstances.

She hadn't quite understood at the time but as an adult had witnessed just how cruel some people could be to those who didn't fit in. Her parent's desire for privacy made perfect sense in hindsight.

Caroline had benefited in many ways. Their beliefs, and relatively reclusive lifestyle, her allowed her parents to give her more freedom than any of her acquaintances had enjoyed. She was certain a husband would be stifling and as her parents had left her the means to support herself comfortably she saw no reason to hunt for one. A distant aunt often wrote to Caroline, bemoaning her lack of supervision. Caroline always burned those letters. She was of the mind that, having passed her 25th birthday, she did not _need_ a chaperone. Young men were allowed to live alone and, as she had no plans to marry, who cared if her reputation was less than pristine?

Certainly not her.

Perhaps she'd take a lover someday but she liked being able to make her own choices. A husband to whom she's be forced to surrender her name, who would be given all sorts of legal authority over her and her affairs, was an unappealing prospect.

"Might we dine in your laboratory?" Niklaus asks. "I confess I am dying to see it."

She _had_ written about it an awful lot so Caroline supposed that made sense. "It's not exactly tidy," she warns him. "I don't like the maids messing with my things and I've been too busy to really pick up after myself these last few days."

He grins, "I won't mind, I assure you. We're friends, are we not? Surely a little messiness is forgivable.

He offers her his arm and Caroline rests her hand in the crook of it. "Only if you _promise_ not to think less of me."

"I would never," he tells her solemnly but with a hint of mischief.

Caroline will hold him to it, however. "We can drop Hrim off with a groom and I'll send a stable boy to the kitchens."

Niklaus nods approvingly, "A sound plan, love. Lead the way."

* * *

Caroline Forbes is a peculiar little thing.

Klaus had been expecting mousy, the sort of chit who compensated for her lack of beauty and charm with book smarts and a stubborn desire to be acknowledged for them.

He'd thought she was a servant when he'd first laid eyes on her, the simple dress and single unravelling plait fooling him. He'd found himself wondering how she'd taste as he'd observed her, so pretty in the morning light. He'd wondered if he could convince her to sneak off from her duties so that he could discover her particular flavor before he set the estate on fire and collected Caroline Forbes.

What a difference a quarter of an hour can make.

When they'd initially begun corresponding Klaus had assumed he'd kill her. Caroline had reached out to a friend of her father's upon finding the truth of the supernatural in the late William Forbes' things, a friend who Klaus had recently eaten.

The man had been _completely_ unreasonable, irritatingly hell bent on riling up humans with the intent of driving vampires out of New Orleans, and unwilling to negotiate as his predecessors had been. Caroline's letter had been open on the desk he'd bled out on and the pretty, feminine hand had caught Klaus' attention. He'd snatched up the paper before blood could sully it.

His first response had mostly been written out of boredom, encouraged by a bottle of whiskey Klaus had falsified an identity and answered a few of her questions. Harmless things really, confirming facts that anyone with a modicum of knowledge would already know.

A simple whim with such complicated reverberations.

Klaus had made a point to dig into Caroline's father's life once his relationship with her began to evolve beyond the perfunctory. Bill Forbes by all reports had been _very_ knowledgeable. A fair contingent of vampires gave Virginia a wide berth though Klaus expected that would change once news of his death circulated.

He himself had kept it quiet. Caroline's second letter had sparked his interest and she'd managed to keep it with each subsequent one, a rarity in Klaus' lifetime. Few humans had ever been more than food, fewer still inspired thoughts of an admiring nature in him. Better to keep other vampires from her path and prevent her activities from becoming known.

Caroline's mind was sharp, her thirst for knowledge nearly insatiable. She'd been reading about blood transfusions, she'd written early on. Theories about why they worked and why they sometimes didn't. Wondering if that could be applicable to vampires somehow. If different humans had different blood, she'd theorized, couldn't that be useful?

She'd sketched out ideas for weaponizing human blood and Klaus had almost been impressed by the ingenuity. He'd humoured her, letting her bounce ideas off of him, sending her grimoires and texts that he could spare that were relevant to the research path she was treading. Tiny details about her life began to pepper her letters, other interests and experiments she was considering. Klaus had never been much for the sciences but he'd found her clear enthusiasm charming, her glee when things went well flooding the pages in the exuberant loops and whirls of her writing.

Such a zest for life was remarkable, _diverting_ , and could very well be useful.

He'd found his replies leaning personal as well, had opened up more than he usually did, rationalizing that a human girl he'd never meet, who didn't even know who or _what_ he was, couldn't possibly pose a threat to him. There was a freedom in it, one he'd not enjoyed since he'd woken up with a desperate thirst that could only be sated by blood.

Klaus hadn't considered the possibility that she'd actually _get_ anywhere with her anti-vampire plans.

She'd mentioned a pair of protégés of her father's that she'd contacted and how they were helping her with her research. When she'd begun detailing trials using the vampire blood they collected, her observations thorough and helping her to refine her theories, Klaus had decided that it was best he intervene. He was fairly certain that nothing she could come up with would harm him or his siblings but there was always the possibility that she would again evolve and surprise him.

Best to sway her over to his side before such a thing could occur. So few people managed to exceed his expectations. Klaus thought it prudent not to underestimate Caroline. He'd begun arranging for things to be handled in New Orleans in his absence while he made the trek north.

He would never have admitted it but he made the trip eagerly, delighted for the excuse to seek Caroline out in person and see if she was as clever as her letters promised.

He'd been amused that she lived so close to the where the village he'd been born in had been situated, the borders of her estate skirting the forests he'd roamed as a child. He'd not been back since he and his siblings had fled after slaughtering their neighbors and Klaus had been struck by how familiar the air had smelled.

He'd have to come back someday, perhaps bring the rest of his family.

Once ensconced in her laboratory Klaus listens to Caroline chatter as she flits about the small room, throwing open curtains and making faces as the dust motes sparkle in the light flooding through the windows. The space she used to work in was not nearly as unkempt as she'd indicated, Klaus thought he discerned a certain organizational system even among piles of books and notes that seemed haphazard. He's not quite absorbing her words, simply enjoying the sound of her voice. He believes he detects a hint of nerves in her manner now, the pitch she's speaking in has ticked up and her hands are twisting together like she can't quite decide what to do with them. There's a sharp knock at the door and a footman enters with a tray, setting it on the end of a settee for lack of a better place. "Will that be all, Miss?" he asks and Klaus fights a smile at the narrow eyed look the man favors him with.

 _Someone_ was a bit protective of their employer. It was almost sweet if completely misguided. Klaus had long since decided that Caroline was far too interesting, had too much potential, to simply _kill_. He had no such qualms about disposing of her help should they displease him or get in his way.

He was planning on giving Caroline a few options, had definite preferences for which one she chose and ideas about the best way to lead her in that direction.

After meeting her he was more certain than ever that she would make a glorious vampire. Most humans of this time were so very close minded and uncreative. Caroline was an exception, brilliant and unconventional, and it would be a shame if she aged and faded away. Her startling beauty and the innate sensuality with which she moved were unexpected, though not unwelcome, bonuses in Klaus' eyes.

He'd planned to set her free after she'd been turned, check up on her in a century or so to see if time had ruined her or made her more resilient. He might have to revise, see if she'd like to share his company for a while.

Klaus knew that he could be _very_ convincing.

Before meeting Caroline he'd _thought_ the best method of swaying her would be to dangle the promise of knowledge. Appeal to her academic soul and expound on how things have changed in the years he'd been alive and tempt her with possible discoveries of the future. Things Caroline could be a part of if she chose to apply her agile mind to such pursuits. That remains the _first_ tactic he intends to employ. New options have begun to occur to him, techniques that would be enjoyable for Klaus too, ways to shut down her sense of logic and reason and tease out her basest desires.

He suspects her appetite for all knowledge, even the prurient kind, would be limitless and that she'd be a spectacular pupil, alternately demanding and eager to please.

He's trying _very_ hard not to look at Caroline, unwilling to risk spooking her should she glean an inkling of what he's thinking. Klaus feigns interest in the items scattered throughout the room, both scientific and magical. The sight of the soft unfettered swells of her breasts pressing against the bodice of her dress is a distraction from his aims, has him wondering just what else she's _not_ wearing.

Caroline smiles at her footman, "The tray will be all for now. Thank you, Alaric. Tell the cook that I'm not sure what time I'll be in for dinner. Mr…" her brows furrow quizzically and Klaus pretends he's not listening so he doesn't have to supply his name. Caroline shakes her head, dislodging more curls from her braid. "Well, we've much to discuss and I'm not sure how long it will take."

The footman eyes Klaus once more, distinctly untrusting. "Would you like me to stay, Miss? Forgive me for speaking out of turn but it's not proper to…"

Caroline cuts him off with an impatient noise, her smile turning brittle, "You've worked in this household long enough to know that we're not particularly concerned with _proper_ , haven't you? Shut the door when you leave, if you please."

Alaric's face is stony, his movements slow, but he does as he's bid. Caroline turns to Klaus once they're alone, her expression softening, and a hint of embarrassment visible. She toys with the end of her braid, "I'm sorry about that."

"No need to be," Klaus tells her. "It's admirable that you inspire such loyalty."

Her face clears, smile once again genuine. "I suppose so. Alaric was a good friend of my fathers. I've known him since I was a baby. He's a bit..."

"Overbearing?" Klaus supplies.

She doesn't deny it. "He means well."

Caroline walks in his direction, eyes drifting down to the vials he's been examining. They're not labeled, filled with a pale purple powder that's familiar though Klaus can't quite place it. Caroline's eyes widen, her hand flying out to land on his arm. "Oh, _please_ don't touch those."

Klaus lifts a brow at the urgency in her tone, glancing down once more. "What's in them?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Caroline admits. "I just received them last week. Jeremy apparently inhaled it and had a terrible reaction. They've asked me to see if I can figure out what sort of plant it comes from, look into an antidote just in case they come across it again. Tyler's telegram left out the symptoms but strongly urged caution. I'm not to touch it with my skin or breathe any of it in so you probably shouldn't either."

"I appreciate the concern, love." She had no way of knowing, _yet_ , that Klaus wasn't susceptible to the same sorts of toxins that she and her human friends were. The evidence that she cared about him was oddly… nice.

Caroline drops her hand, perhaps realizing just how tightly she was gripping him, her mouth twisting self-deprecatingly, "I would hate to be responsible for something awful happening to you. It might soil you on my little corner of America forever and that would be a shame."

That almost sounded like an invitation to return.

Klaus turns away, making his way to the settee. He didn't want her to catch a glimpse of the surely smug pleasure he wore as the certainty that it would be easy to convince Caroline to leave this place washed over him. He settles onto the cushions, helping himself to one of the bite sized morsels that have been prettily arranged for them. Caroline leans against her worktable table, once again at a loss for what to do with her hands. Klaus is just about to invite her to sit with him, mind turning over the best way to broach the reasons why he'd really come, when she speaks. "It occurred to me that I'm not entirely sure what your surname is, Niklaus. You always write it but your signature's more of a scribble."

That was by design. He'd been uncertain of just how connected Caroline was in the beginning and his caution had been prudent. Bill Forbes had the means to know about the original vampires and it was entirely possible he'd written of them for Caroline to find.

She'd just supplied him with the perfect opening.

Klaus watches her carefully. "It's Mikaelson." She nods in acceptance, repeating it under her breath. It's a common enough name so Klaus understands the lack of reaction. "And most people call me Klaus," he adds and _waits_. It only takes a few seconds for Caroline to make the necessary connections, her eyes going round and her body rigid. "Ah, so you _have_ heard of me."

The noise she makes is strangled, her face paling. Klaus moves slowly, standing and holding up his hands in a gesture he hopes reads as non-threatening but he's really had little practice with such things. "I'm not here to hurt you, Caroline," he tells her softly. He hazards a step in her direction but she jerks violently, knocking into the table and causing the vials of the unknown substance to roll off the edge.

She hisses out a blistering curse that has Klaus blinking in surprise, dropping to her knees unthinkingly to clean up the mess. Her descent is so rapid that he doesn't manage to caution her. Her hand jerks away from the shattered glass immediately, a spot of blood visible, and she lets out a shaky laugh, "I am _such_ an imbecile. I just said that this is _not_ to be touched and what do I do? And least you'll probably kill me before I experience any pain." Caroline looks up at him, jaw set stubbornly and a faint sheen of tears that she refuses to let fall in her accusing blue eyes.

Klaus strides towards her and joins her on the floor. "I'm not going to kill you, sweetheart."

Not permanently at least. And not without her explicit permission.

Caroline scoffs, "I've read about you. You kill _everyone_."

"If that were true there were be no stories of me for you to have read," he points out reasonably. Caroline's lips purse in distaste but she hasn't attempted to move away and Klaus takes that as a promising sign. "Additionally my sireline is quite healthy and prodigious. I'd be happy to introduce you to any number of the vampires I've turned."

Those that were loyal, of course. Trustworthy and fit to make Caroline's acquaintance.

She's still bleeding, the metallic scent thick and mouth-watering. Caroline flinches when he takes her hand but Klaus is persistent, bringing her fingers to his mouth and wrapping his lips around the injured one. Her lips part when he sucks, stroking the pad of her finger with his tongue.

Two things hit him at once. The first is the exquisite taste of her blood. The sweetness of it has his fangs aching for more but he knows it's the wrong time. The second is that he _knows_ what the powder is, has tasted it before.

Caroline's not going to be pleased when he explains. It's possible she'll be mollified when he gives her the specifics, lets her know that she doesn't _have_ to feel the pain her little friends must have before they'd discovered how to alleviate the unpleasant side effects. Not when Klaus is more than willing to offer his assistance.

He releases her finger, swallowing back a groan of disappointment at the loss. "What do you know of aphrodisiacs, love?"

Her nose wrinkles in confusion, "They're substances said to encourage arousal. Usually nonsense with zero basis in sound science."

Clever girl.

Klaus nods approvingly and hurries to elaborate knowing that the window of time she has to remain clear headed is limited, "Usually, yes. But, when magic is applied the usual rules are less hard and fast. The powder you've been dosed with _is_ an aphrodisiac one far more intense than anything you've ever heard of."

"How do you know that?" she asks suspiciously.

"There are certain pockets of humanity that live symbiotically with vampires, some who crave our attention, enjoy the bites and the… sexual benefits our enhanced senses, strength and stamina allow. They're the powder's primary market. They think it makes them more appealing to us."

Caroline's breathing begins to quicken and Klaus can hear the faint uptick in her heart rate. She shifts restlessly and he'd bet if he glanced down her nipples would be stiff and visible behind the garment she wears. Her body is beginning to succumb, her need will soon override reason and there's still more she needs to know. He grasps her arms and shakes her gently. Caroline's eyes squeeze shut but there's no telltale haze when she opens them. He can see her thinking, looking for a solution.

Unfortunately, there's only one.

"Forgive me for my crassness, sweetheart, but are you _untouched_?"

Her color heightens dramatically but she nods, lips pressed in a tight line. Klaus wishes he had time to question her more gently. At least Caroline's a pragmatic sort, not prone to maidenly swooning. He dips his head until he can meet her eyes again, notes how they've darkened, "And there's no one you've explored with? No stable boy or chamber maid that visits your room under the cover of darkness? I can find them for you, love."

He'd hate doing it but he _would_. His plans for Caroline were more than momentary, a lover easily left behind once she was willing to reach out and take more for herself would not affect them in the slightest.

Her moan is equal parts arousal and humiliation. "No, I've never… There hasn't been… I'm incredibly focu…"

She flounders and Klaus presses forward ignoring the satisfaction racing through him. "Do you touch yourself? If I leave you here do you know how to make yourself come?"

Her tongue glides along her lower lip, leaving it shiny, and Klaus refuses to allow himself to look. He can smell her, the tantalizing scent of her growing need, knows her thighs must be slick with it. It's damnably tempting and were he a weaker individual she'd already be flat on her back with his mouth where she was dripping. "I…" she rasps out, slumping forward to press against him. "I can't think," she whispers, sounding awed and a touch scared.

Klaus hauls her back, "Answer me, Caroline," he demands.

"I do," she manages around a gasp. "Of course I do. With all the experiments I've done do you really think I'd be content to leave my own body a mystery?"

A valid point and Klaus hates it but his mind drifts to how much he'd enjoy letting her experiment with _his_ body, how her capable, ink stained hands would feel as she tested which grip he liked best around his cock. "Okay," he grits out. "I'm going to leave. I'll be right outside that door because you and I still have business to discuss and I doubt you'd like to be interrupted by one of your servants."

Caroline cringes, her nails digging into his shirt. "That would be _mortifying_. How long will it take?"

"By yourself? I'm not certain. The powder will usually run its course in two or three days with a partner."

Her reply is disbelieving. And shrill. "Two or three days?!"

He smooths a few wisps of hair off of her damp forehead, the only gesture of comfort he can offer, and doesn't examine why he feels the need to make it. Klaus stands and lifts Caroline to her feet and into his arms. She moans, guttural and wanting, burying her head in his shoulder, hands greedily tracing what she can reach of his form pressed against him as she is.

Klaus needs to leave. Immediately.

He deposits her on the settee, whisks the tray away. His final offer isn't as steady as he would like it to be. "I'll be _right_ outside that door. Call if you wish for any… assistance."

He's not entirely sure she understands what he'd meant. Perhaps it's better that way.

* * *

Caroline's barely aware of Niklaus, _Klaus_ , leaving, the insistent throbbing between her legs all that she can focus on. She's never felt this on edge, like her skin could split right open at any moment if she didn't get her hands up her skirts and against her prickling flesh. Her breathing is ragged, fanning out over her parted lips and Caroline plants her heels in the settee's cushions, lifting her hips so she can yank up her dress, skimming her hands up her bare thighs. They part under her touch, one leg tumbling off the side as she squirms to find the best position, stroking over the sticky patch of hair that covers her pubic bone and then lower to where she's slick and hot. The tiny bump that she's learned to manipulate aches and Caroline sobs out a moan when she rubs around it her hips twitching up into the circles she's making. Her free hand palms her breast, tugging roughly at her still clothed nipple, and her muscles begin to tremble as she tenses while reaching for that delightful rush of sensation.

She's never climbed this fast before, usually spends long minutes teasing herself in her bed until she can find a peak. Her head thrashes against the fabric below her, hands moving faster and faster, high pitched whimpers spilling from her lips as she twists under her own fingers. When she goes over the edge it's shattering, her body arching up sharply and a short scream of relief ringing out as she shudders through waves of bliss.

She's typically relaxed once she's finished, stumbles out of bed to clean herself before collapsing back into it and drifting into a sound sleep.

Not today.

She feels… normal _just_ for a moment. A bolt of clarity rushes in and she realizes all that's happened, just who she'd been speaking to and what he's capable of. His offer flits through her mind just before new, demanding ripples of lust begin to course through her. She bites her lip to muffle her moan, frozen in the knowledge that Klaus can _hear_ her.

Gracious she'd been _loud_.

Her body's pulses grow hotter, harder to ignore, and Caroline's fingers delve back into her folds, brushing over the source of the wetness before easing inside of her clenching body. She presses her palm down, grinding it against her sensitive flesh. Soon her thoughts are once again foggy, her only goal quieting her body's insistent needs.

Again. And again.

She quickly ceases to be aware of time passing, one climax rolling into another. She begins to ache in a less pleasant way, a soreness growing in her splayed thighs, her most sensitive parts feeling swollen and oversensitive. She begins to hiss occasionally in discomfort, tries to give herself a rest, a short recovery period, but her need for satiation is greater the previously thrilling yearning beginning to _burn_. Still, the small disagreeable twinges are distracting, leaving her muddled and _stuck_.

Finally she groans in frustration and heaves herself to her feet, planning on walking a bit, rationalizing that she has to try _something_. She immediately stumbles, the blood rushing to her head and her shaky legs conspiring against her. Caroline careens to the side, slamming into the settee and sending it scraping loudly against the floor. She pounds her fist against the softness of it in frustration as she lays half-sprawled on it, an angry noise gurgling out of her throat as she squeezes her thighs together helplessly and ruts against the cushion beneath her. She hears a soft knock, a tentative question, "Are you hurt, Caroline?"

Caroline groans and Klaus must interpret that as permission to enter. Footsteps approach her and he crouches. She cracks her eyes open and finds his face level with hers.

A monster should not be capable of looking at a woman like he's looking at her.

There's softness there, sympathy. A hint of something dangerous and intriguing barely leashed in the flash of red in his eyes. Caroline clears her throat but her voice still cracks, "This is _awful_. People truly do this for enjoyment?"

He smiles at her, runs a fingertip over her flushed cheek, "Is that so hard to believe, sweetheart? It sounded as if _you_ were enjoying yourself." There's no censure in the statement, only a slight thickening of his accent that causes the words to come out roughly.

Caroline sighs, letting her head rest more heavily on the settee, "Sore now. I can't…"

"Let me help you, Caroline." His fingers trace the shell of her ear and Caroline's eyes want to drift closed at the delicate caress. "I can make you feel so good," he croons.

She forces her eyes back open, unwilling to allow herself to be swept away. "You lied to me," she accuses.

"I know."

"Are you sorry?"

He seems to take a moment to think about it, discards several answers before he speaks again. "I not, love. I rarely entertain regrets and lying to you allowed me to _know_ you, did it not? I cannot regret that."

Caroline appreciates the honesty though she's torn about how the answer makes her feel. He _did_ know her. But did she know him?

The pain is worsening and she clenches her teeth together, attempts to breathe through it. A flicker of concern darkens Klaus' eyes but he remains still and watchful. "Why did you come here?" Caroline asks once she can open her mouth without crying out.

This time he doesn't hesitate. "I think you've got the makings of a magnificent vampire, sweetheart. Your intelligence and ambitions are too grand to be limited to such a short life. I aim to convince you of that."

She stiffens her shock momentarily driving away everything else. "I _can't_ ," she insists.

"Why not? You have no family, your childhood friends have all married, something you don't want, correct? You could see the entire world, Caroline. A dozen times over. Solve all the mysteries of the universe if you wanted to. You'd always be as lovely as you are now, you'd merely gain fangs and ferocity both of which would suit you nicely."

She blinks at him, thoughts a confused mess, unable to formulate a logical reply. Klaus shakes his head, smiles a little ruefully. "You don't have to decide _now_. It's far too much in your current state. Let's speak of something simpler. Can I touch you? Will you let me give you what you need?"

She swallows harshly, the sound echoing between them before she manages a tentative nod.

It's purely practical, she tells herself. She'd been failing on her own, sinking deeper into frustrated agony. It only made sense to try something different. Klaus' hands urge her to turn, firm and steady and supporting her when she falters, her body feeling heavy and uncoordinated. He tears her dress and Caroline can't bring herself to mind, knowing it was likely rumpled beyond repair. She knows she should feel self-conscious lying nude before his gaze and her hands twitch with the urge to cover herself but Klaus' gaze in hungry, almost reverent, tracking over every inch of her flushed form like he's trying to memorize it.

His hands glide up her legs, his rough palms an intriguing contrast to her smooth skin. She jerks when he traces her folds with his thumb and he glances up at her questioningly, "Sorry," she mumbles. It hadn't _actually_ hurt she'd just expected it to and had reacted accordingly.

He shushes her gently, "Don't ever be sorry, Caroline. I always want your reactions to be true." His touch remains delicate, feather light brushes along the seam of her that manage not to be too much. She closes her eyes, sinking into the feeling, and then suddenly it's… different. _Wetter_. Curious but not at all unpleasant.

She hears a hum, feels the vibration of it and her eyes fly open to meet Klaus'. She makes a shocked noise upon finding his mouth hovering between her thighs. She watches as his tongue peeks out and takes a soft taste of her flesh.

Heaven help her but she _likes_ it.

He does it again, perhaps reading her mind, the brushes soft and exploratory and coaxing back those lovely feelings that she'd thought herself too sensitive for as they delve deeper. She whines when he pulls back and he smiles in delight, "Greedy," he murmurs approvingly. "Just as I'd assumed."

Caroline can't bring herself to be ashamed and she doesn't think Klaus means her to be, not with such wicked satisfaction clear in his features. "Sit up a bit," he instructs, "Cup your breasts and show me how you like to be touched."

She does as she's asked, tentatively passing her hands over her nipples under his approving gaze. "Just like that," he encourages, slipping his shoulder under her thigh. "You're going to come on my tongue, Caroline. I'll take slow and languid little tastes until you forget that you're sore. Then you'll be ready for more, I think. I'll go faster, use my fingers too until you're writhing and wild. Do you think you'll be ready for my cock then? It won't hurt a bit if I push into you when you're falling apart."

Funny, Caroline had never heard that. Only horror stories about pain and blood and gritting her teeth and baring it gracefully so as not to mar her husband's experience.

He continues, tone knowing, "You like the feel of _your_ fingers buried inside your tight little sheath, don't you? I heard you, you know. _Imagined_ you. You sighed when you started with one, your breath hitched at the stretch when you eased in another. I promise it can be _better_."

It's not in her nature to just accept things. "Better how?" she questions, her curiosity getting the best of her.

A low laugh rumbles from Klaus, "Humans have been fucking since the dawn of time, love. There are limitless ways to do it. Positions, situations, accessories. Everyone has preferences and I'm certain that helping you to discover yours would be endlessly fascinating."

Caroline believes him, has no choice not to when just his words are inspiring her body to react, arousal pooling at her entrance. The idea of endless possibilities is intriguing and she makes a note to press Klaus for specifics later, perhaps get him to help her start a list.

She was a scientist. Used to attacking puzzles and he'd just teased her with a large one.

She licks her lips and meets his eyes, pinches and rolls her nipple just to see if she can affect him too. His eyes flare, dropping to her breasts, "Do that again," he tells her, voice deep and commanding. Caroline shivers and does so, moaning at the tug of desire it shoots low in her belly.

She digs her heel into his back and his hands dig into her thighs. He's watching her like he's waiting for something. She inhales shakily, "I want you to show me. _All_ of it."

Klaus shakes his head, his generous mouth curving in gleeful anticipation, "Oh, Caroline, don't you worry. It will be by greatest pleasure to show you all the things I've spoken of. And _more_."

How Caroline wonders, for the brief moment she's capable of it, could there _possibly_ be more?


End file.
